When the Fall Comes
by Koiame
Summary: Harry/Draco. The big day of the Potter/Weasley wedding has arrived! What could possibly go wrong? Post 7th bk, w/o epilogue. Gore, debauchery, adult language, non-consent, lemons, and everything else that would make your mom cry for your corrupted soul.
1. Chapter 1

**When the Fall Comes**

AU post 7th book

Harry/Draco

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**Author (Koiame):** Hello!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the 'goddess' JK Rowling. Please do not try to sue me, anyone I am affiliated with, or because this is purely for enjoyment and any copyright infringement or whatnot is not intentional. Thanks.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever. By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not.

**Genre**: Harry Potter AU post 7th book w/o second ending b/c it sucked in my humble opinion. Contains strong language, may contain sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

May contain vampires, werewolves, faeries, centaurs, giants, ghosts, and other magical creatures.

It will contain Witches and Wizards. (DUH)

THIS IS A YAIO which means… BOY/BOY. May also have girl/girl, buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Old History**

It is a very peculiar thing when your journeys lead you back to where you began. Maybe it is a reminder of the hardships faced to get to where you are now. Or even more rarely, it could show you what you may have missed.

--

The way the Potter and Weasley houses split is explainable with the story of the most shockingly disastrous wedding the wizarding world had seen since Calwardarus Filtch and Haqidwen Algars sought to tie the knot where there was plum pudding and cappers everywhere. Naturally, to be worse than that, the Potter-Weasley wedding must have faced something completely disastrous. Something as completely unpredictable as the new found boldness of Neville Longbottom.

Looking back it should have been easy to spot. The most inept Centaur, with a crooked neck, glass eye, and two peg-hoofs, on a cloud-filled summer night could have seen it coming 1000 years from then. And she did, though none of the other Centaurs cared to remember anything she said and thus it was forgotten. Anyways, enough about how obvious Neville Longbottom's affections were…

Everyone was in attendance to witness the marriage of Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter. Hundreds of people spilled across a beautiful grassy plain not far from the Burrow that was surrounded with all the glory of spring. When the bride and groom met at the altar and said their vows, said "I do", and were about to seal it with a kiss, there came Neville Longbottom on a broomstick flying in to voice his objections first with a hard crash on top of a table set up for the reception after… then with a frantic, potato-salad coated objection.

"Ginny!" Neville screamed.

The poor bride simply looked at the objector with astonishment and a bit of terror.

Longbottom walked forward up the aisle. There was not a single of the hundreds of spectators that could move out of confusion. There was a collective murmuring that equaled building outrage in Harry Potter's head.

"Ginny… I can't let you marry him. Please understand." Neville looked pleadingly and apologetically around himself and at the bride.

"N…N…Ne..ville?" Shock held tightly onto Ginny's breathe.

"Ginny I love you. I always have." There was not a sound. Not a single solitary sound as if everyone in attendance and nature itself were afraid to take in a breath so not to partake in the violation of that breaking moment.

"Get the FUCK out of here Neville!" cried Ron, Harry's best man.

The red-head had his wand grasped tightly in his hand, contemplating striking the friend he now thought traitor, Neville.

"Ginny, please! Don't you feel anything at all between…" Neville was hit backwards with a spell from Ron.

"Neville! Ron don't!" Ginny screamed.

Harry felt her heart's betrayal.

Neville got to his feet and send a stronger curse back that toppled over the wedding arch with many of the attendees in the way. There was chaos and screaming. Spells were being flung in every direction as Harry and Hermione rushed Ginny out of the way of any misfired spells. Then there were quite a number that stayed, fighting over poorly shot curses and disagreements over Neville and the wedding. Ginny was in tears by the time she got back to the Burrow. Harry and Hermione sat her down in a chair at the large kitchen table. Harry kneeled down in front of her and held her hand as she cried.

After a while Harry spoke. "Ginny… Ginny"

The red-head peered up at her husband with confused and pained eyes. At that moment Harry could not explain to himself why he had never seen before what he had realized just now. Ginny loved Harry yes, but she loved Neville more.

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**Author:** That is the end of the first chapter. A bit of back-story going on… This will be Harry/Draco so just wait for it. :D And Enjoy. If I get reviews, you get some more soon!! Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author (Koiame)**: Okay, this means that there was sufficient interest in this fanfic and so I decided to give you some more. Also, I actually had some free time! YAY! Read, Review, Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or the most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling. Please do not try to sue me, anyone I am affiliated with, or because this is purely for enjoyment and any copyright infringement or whatnot is not intentional. Thanks.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever. By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not.

**Genre**: Harry Potter AU post 7th book w/o second ending b/c it sucked in my humble opinion. Contains strong language, may contain sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

May contain vampires, werewolves, faeries, centaurs, giants, ghosts, and other magical creatures.

It will contain Witches and Wizards. (DUH)

THIS IS A YAIO which means… BOY/BOY. May also have girl/girl buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 2**: The Fading Place

A prickly beard modestly shaped the face of a young man in despair. It was almost two years after that day at the Burrow. Harry Potter quietly celebrated his twenty-first birthday with a growing crowd of empty fire-whisky flagons in a rickety old bar. He worked as an Auror for the Ministry, exterminating a group of muggle-hunting dark wizards in the vast expanse of the Amazon. Perhaps he had considered an Auror's life would be less glum at one point during his education at Hogwarts, but whatever he had expected it was nothing this pathetic. His green eyes were cradled now by dark hammocks that counted two years of sleepless nights and unrelenting loneliness. Even now in a drunken stupor, Harry could not be soothed of burning, angry questions of his fate.

"This really what I deserve? After all… I…" Harry mumbled as his words and mind seemed to sail away from him.

It was a muggy, mosquito-infested evening outside the broken boards of the establishment. Inside was not much better. Insects flitted about, occasionally gathering at old spots of dried blood in desperation.

"… pathetic!", Harry scolded himself as his eyes drooped and head slumped forward in a drunken daze.

The only other person in the bar, the barmaid, peeked her head around the tattered adult magazine she was reading to look at her only customer. "Oi!? What's that Harry?"

The tousled-haired wizard bolted upright in his chair and confusingly looked about. The barmaid saw this and reassured him with a conciliatory wave. 'It's ok', she mouthed at him so that he settled down. The immodest bartender then got up and tended to the empty flagons Harry would intermittently fall asleep on.

It was the birthday of a lost boy.

The barmaid went about her business and 'locked up' the shack. Inebriated snores caused the wooden shanty to breathe labored breaths into the night, so that their harmonies echoed among the night trees.

"Good night Potter." The kind almond eyes of the bartender gazed sympathetically upon the sad sight of a man she had come to identify with.

"G'night. Just pass… the toast if you could… I have… Ron,… they're just sp… piders." Harry gesticulated sleepily as drool pooled at the lower corner of his mouth.

'It is okay to leave him there' the bartender had decided. 'He's not the type to cause any

trouble.'

But 'muggle understanding makes dangerous assumptions'. That was Harry's fortune cookie one 'take-out' night in England. And prophesies concerning Harry have a peculiar pattern of coming true…

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Author: Kind of a depressing continuation, but this type of a bleak outlook adds to the story, ne? I hope you enjoyed Chapter 2 and review if you feel compelled to. ^.^ I will update when I am next able; promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author (Koiame)**: This is my favorite fanfic at the moment and I really wanted to continue it. So without further adieu, here it goes.

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: moriah93ohio, lampshadesrgreat, and .

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or the most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling. Please do not try to sue me, anyone I am affiliated with, or because this is purely for enjoyment and any copyright infringement or whatnot is not intentional. Thanks.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever. By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not.

**Genre**: Harry Potter AU post 7th book w/o second ending b/c it sucked in my humble opinion. Contains strong language, may contain sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

May contain vampires, werewolves, faeries, centaurs, giants, ghosts, and other magical creatures.

It will contain Witches and Wizards. (DUH)

THIS IS A YAIO which means… BOY/BOY. May also have girl/girl buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 3: Invitation**

Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk; parchment in her left hand and a quill in her right. After the death of Albus Dumbledore, the former Deputy Headmistress assumed the responsibility of running Hogwarts. In the morning light of the great office, the Headmistress was writing reminders regarding the O.W.L.s that would be taking place in two weeks. Yet, there was something else on her mind. A family, though shamed by their association with the Dark Lord, had managed to influence the Hogwarts Board of Governors to impose a new Potions master at Hogwarts.

McGonagall herself, all through the year, had kept vigilant watch over the new professor. How many times had she gone before the Governors to protest? Every time the response was the same, "He has a gift for potions that he exhibited during his time as a student at Hogwarts. His research in the two years after he graduated on the affects of bovine saliva could only be described as a groundbreaking contribution."

'Groundbreaking contribution my foot!' Professor McGonagall fumed as she ripped a hole through the parchment from crossing a 'T' too hastily.

An abrupt taping came at the door.

"Come in." The Headmistress called forth her visitor.

The bouncy locks of a smiling Hermione Granger peeked first through the door.

"Miss Granger! What a surprise." Mrs. McGonagall sprang from her seat at the arrival of her former top student.

"Sorry to disturb you Professor." Hermione apologized. "I know I should have sent an owl ahead…"

"Nonsense! It is good to see you dear." McGonagall beamed as she hugged the brown-haired witch. "Is everything alright? How have you been?"

"Yes, more than fine. That's party why I'm here." Hermione searched through her robes for an envelope.

"What's this?" The Headmistress inquired as she took the elegant red and gold envelope from her former pupil.

"It is an invitation to my wedding." She blushed.

"To a certain Ronald Weasley I presume." McGonagall inferred knowingly.

"Yes." Hermione felt her face radiating heat. "But there is something else I wanted to talk to you about. Regarding Harry…"

Hermione paused, measuring out the weight of her next words.

"It is a shame; I remember when Harry and Ginny were married almost two years ago. Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom running away together… Harry became an Auror." The headmistress reminisced.

"I have a request." Hermione went right into it, not wanting to lose her resolve.

"What is it my dear?" McGonagall was taken aback by the suddenness of her words.

"I'm sorry, it's just that… Ron heard that there was an opening for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position when he was in a meeting with the Ministry. Harry would be perfect for that job and…" The clever witch compelled of her former professor's understanding. "… this school has meant the world to Harry. I can't think of anything better for him right now than being here."

The aged witch held up her hand to stop Hermione's rambling; thinking on the proposition that had been thrust upon her.

After a moment, McGonagall sighed and said, "Hermione, dear…I don't know how I would contact Mr. Potter. He's a ministry Auror."

The young witch became dejected before the Headmistress added, "But I will try. God knows there is no one as fit for the position."

Hermione beamed with happiness and thanked Professor McGonagall fervently. After some polite conversation, Miss Granger left the Headmistress alone to her thoughts.

'Why did I agree to all of that?' The tired witch thought as she sat at her desk once more. 'Even if I could find Potter and he agreed to the position, there was still the fact that his rival would also be a teacher here!'

The troublesome new teacher, Draco Malfoy, would also be there…

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**Koiame**: Did you enjoy that chapter? I thought it was pretty cool. So now I'm not going to update for a while until I get some 'good and plenty' of those reviews. So please… and thank you! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Author (Koiame)**: I'm still deciding so many things about this story. Hope you enjoy it!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: Blackvirgin17 and moriah93ohio for commenting on chapter 3! ^.^

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or the most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling. Please do not try to sue me, anyone I am affiliated with, or because this is purely for enjoyment and any copyright infringement or whatnot is not intentional. Thanks.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever. By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not.

**Genre**: Harry Potter AU post 7th book w/o second ending b/c it sucked in my humble opinion. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

May contain vampires, werewolves, faeries, centaurs, giants, ghosts, and other magical creatures.

It will contain Witches and Wizards. (DUH)

THIS IS A YAIO which means… **BOY/BOY**. May have straight pairings, too. May also have girl/girl, buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 4: The Ordinary Life**

A mean spider with dark hairy legs and a bull-dog's overbite crawled across the table. It chuckled with delight as it feasted on the table ants that called Le Chien Andalou home.

"Spank me again!" The naked barmaid shrieked as she leaned over for her play mate and giggled.

"Omph!" She bit her lip and moaned with every blow.

The man was average, but not when it came to 'private' matters; the type of man you'd go to get your taxes done when convenient technological muggle methods failed. Harry had gone deep into the Amazon that morning, so the pair of lovers took the opportunity to frolic.

July was a humid hell. The smell of rotting dead things along the river edge and forest floor hung in the air as a visible mist. While drunk, Harry would occasionally laugh so hard that he'd fall off his seat thinking of the Dursleys living there. Some nights, when the barmaid was busy upstairs, he actually tried to summon them. But all he would ever manage to make appear were two limes and a half rotten kiwi.

The day became hotter and stickier by the minute. Harry had the misfortune of returning just at its peak. He tottered in, covered in mud, and avoided looking directly at the equally blushed pair.

"Hi Harry! Dinner will be ready at 6:30." Rebecca, the bartender, chimed.

Harry nodded awkwardly as he rushed up the stairs; mud flicking off of him in all directions.

"What a scene!" The auror mused to himself as he stepped into the tiny washroom of the room he rented. '_Never would I have guessed the secret life of barmaids!_"

It was bad enough he would be forced to tolerate the knocking against the wall every night. '_Not even the bar is sacred any more_', Harry sighed as he peeled off his mud-pasted knickers. He had fallen backwards into a mud-hole when a four foot snake fell out of a tree.

'_All that tracking through the dense jungle for nothing!_' The dark-haired wizard flicked his wand and the bathtub filled with hot, soapy water. Feet and cheeks first, he quickly submerged himself in the cleansing waters.

Heart beat slowing and faint smell of chamomile filling his lungs, Harry let his mind drift. Water encircled the finger that was once bound by a promise.

'_It's better this way._' A frown on the auror's face said. With his right hand, he wiped his face. The mud merely smudged, covering his pale complexion more. The twenty-one year old wizard's lifestyle was taking its toll.

A year and a half ago, he saw Charlie Weasley while on assignment. Dark wizards were seeking to control the dragons and use them in attacks against The Durmstrang Institute. A scar still showed; an angry, deep red from right shoulder to hip. The sound of spells exploding and dragons roaring filled his ears still some nights from that and other battles.

But at Le Chien Andalou, it was quiet stillness. The water winded along its paths the same as it had for millennium. Every night sitting awake in bed or passed out at a table, Harry felt his soul rotting. The insects sang their conquests over the earth and fallen animal overlords.

The only interruption came from Rebecca's debauchery or his auror contact's updates. For the past eight months, the green-eyed wizard lingered in the jungle. So far, the young auror had made countless attempts to find the smugglers' safe-house to no avail.

Footsteps suddenly pounded up the stairs and Harry's eyes snapped open.

"_Accio wand_" the wizard whispered.

Wand at the ready, the auror's naked body froze; ready and alert to face the threat. The pounding footsteps passed his door and the sound of a door flying open echoed through the hall.

'_Bandits? Or worse?_' Harry thought as he carefully rose from his warm bath. Water pooled around each footstep on the wooden floor. To the door, he crept as the rustling continued next door. Hand on the door; Harry paused to listen. There came another faint creaking at the bottom of the stairs. He no longer heard the ruckus of his perky landlord or her company.

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**Koiame**: Thank you for reading. Please review and tell me what you think. Sorry this update has been very late. I've had a lot of unfortunate things happening in my life, and unfortunately I've had to neglect updating. This chapter, and the next one were difficult to write as it has been a while. Hopefully I'm not too rusty. ;D


	5. Chapter 5

**Author (Koiame)**: How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: moriah93ohio and Miss Crookshanks. This chapter is for you. Thank you for being so supportive!

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or the most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling. Please do not try to sue me, anyone I am affiliated with, or because this is purely for enjoyment and any copyright infringement or whatnot is not intentional. Thanks.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever. By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not.

**Genre**: Harry Potter AU post 7th book w/o second ending b/c it sucked in my humble opinion. Contains strong language, may contain sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

May contain vampires, werewolves, faeries, centaurs, giants, ghosts, and other magical creatures.

It will contain Witches and Wizards. (DUH)

THIS IS A YAIO which means… BOY/BOY. May also have girl/girl buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

* * *

'_Bandits? Or worse?_' Harry thought as he carefully rose from his warm bath. Water pooled around each footstep on the wooden floor. To the door, he crept as the rustling continued next door. Hand on the door; Harry paused to listen. There came another faint creaking at the bottom of the stairs. He no longer heard the ruckus of his perky landlord or her company…

**Chapter 5: Before the Storm**

"Al, what are you doing up there? Did you find it yet?" Came Rebecca's unmistakable, high-pitched holler.

"I can't find it, it's not up here!" He called back to her.

Harry relaxed and slid down against the door.

'_Just another false alarm._' The wizard sighed in disbelief.

"Did you check the shower?" She retorted.

"Of course I did!" He yelled impatiently.

"It's got to be tied to a bed post!"

"Don't you think I didn't look there already?"

The frustrated conversation paused. The man's footsteps soon were heard down the hall and then the stairs.

"It was tied to the bed post, wasn't it." Rebecca's muffled gloating rose from downstairs.

"My wife would be so pissed…" Al said, almost as a formality.

"I bet." She said unconcerned.

Still Harry sat on the floor, listening; curiosity getting the better of him. Pale skin sparked in the dim light as the remaining beads of water kissed the surface. The wizard had become disinterested in continuing his bath, instead deciding to grab a towel from the door hook and wipe off the remaining water and dried mud.

The front door slammed; outside, the faint traces of their conversation. Harry pulled himself to his feet and drained the tub. With the towel wrapped around his waist, the young man gathered up his dirty clothes and tossed them into an overflowing basket.

The bedroom was meager and aged. A mattress was pulled in one side, a small table pushed against the window as a desk, and familiar trunk pushed to the opposite side of the room. There were papers and things littered about. It was so unlike the warm haven of Griffindor dormitory. Rather, it smelled of stagnant air and rotting corners.

"Home." Harry glumly smirked.

It hurt every time he was sober. The thoughts of her… of the family that could have been. Harry climbed into his bed on autopilot; wrapped up in miserable thoughts of what is and what could have been. The futility of his search for the smugglers and dark wizards rumored to operate in the area compounded his frustration. Since discovering he was a wizard eleven years ago, hope and possibility filled his visions of the future. And even though that hope had wavered during the dark times of the fight with Voldemort, Harry knew he had a destiny to fulfill. Now, what purpose was left for the boy who lived?

How could Harry foresee the intentions of an overlooked pair of eyes; those that gleamed from the forest trees beyond his cloudy window? Every night they waited and watched. The Bestial Beast who stalked the night. Bound to the forest and confined to the darkness; the ancient brute needed only to wait. The wizard would be lured. The wizard could no longer dwell on the past.

**

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Koiame**: Things have been slowly coming along. Taking my sweet time with the story as you can see. I really want to do it right. Hope you all are enjoying. It'll probably be longer until I update with the next chapter though. Please read, review, and enjoy. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Author (Koiame)**: So the story stats for the last chapter have not registered for the last chapter, which really sucks 'cause it makes me feel unloved. So please drop me some reviews so I know how I'm doing. It motivates me to actually update. Thank you and enjoy!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: moriah89ohio

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or the most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: No part of this story is recommended for persons under the age of 18 years old. If you are under the age of 18, do not read or you will waive your right to get me or any host of this story in any trouble what so ever.

Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

THIS IS A YAIO which means… **BOY/BOY**. May have straight pairings, too. May also have girl/girl, buy most likely not.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 6: Misfortunate Man**

A silver-haired young man sat near the fireplace in his dank dungeon classroom. The flames flickered as they consumed the blackened logs and turned scraps of paper to ashes. Dark shadows caressed Professor Malfoy's cheeks with the same care as a lashing dragon's tongue. Draco was far away in thought; his pale blue eyes dull and breathing careless.

Lucius Malfoy was dead. The daily prophet speculated his murder was the result of a dispute over a matter of 18 galleons. His body was stripped naked and defiled before tossed onto the steps of Gringotts. Pictures were being sold on the black market.

Disgrace was etched on Malfoy pride. But Draco cried no tears. None would come out. The silent anger and pain… what does that do to the soul? The Slytherin head of house sat there blankly though the night. The crackling of the fire calmed down as the hours passed.

Only one word could escape from Draco's lips. From his heart came a strangled sound lost to all. "Dad" He was _gone_; never to return.

**

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Koiame**: Writing this chapter made me very upset, but it was important. I know it was short, but I have updated a lot recently so it's okay. Please review and let me know how I am doing. No reviews = no continuing. :( Now to let my head crash on my pillow before I pass out at my computer. Class in the morning I'm afraid…


	7. Chapter 7

**Author (Koiame)**: Ya'll probably hate me for the last chapter. Sorry I had to do it. I did warn you about the angst, and it's not going to get any better. But I promise to inject some of my odd humor in every once in a while. Please don't forget to review! :)

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: No one. :( But I understand; the last chapter was too short to be worth reviewing I guess… but this one is long so please review. Please and thank you!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

Enjoy.

**

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Chapter 7: Ominous**

"Mrs. McGonagall", the pale face of a widow emerged from a curtain of luxurious blonde hair. "Can I come in?"

Minerva McGonagall, clad in flowery nightgown, matching slippers, and poofy cap, was surprised to meet Mrs. Malfoy at her door. After a moment's pause, the professor made way for her guest to enter. "What brings you here at this hour, Mrs. Malfoy?" But Minerva had already guessed. Not a single soul in Hogwarts was unaware of Lucius Malfoy's fate.

The black robe of Narcissa Malfoy billowed behind as her graceful steps ushered her forth. The office of interim Headmaster Minerva McGonagall felt like a librarian's home; bookshelves lined the large chamber and books lay open on every table and decorative chair. But with the convenience of magic, not a speck of dust haunted a single corner of her home. Pictures and paintings dotted the room, often obscured by parchment and small cages of sleeping animals.

A single wrapped package lay on a high window sill; its presence like an old battle scar. '**_To a be-speckled cat from a crooked-nosed old bat_**', read its gift tag. The dim light of the waning moon gave it a ghostly glow.

The chair in front of McGonagall's desk made a modest creak under the weight of Mrs. Malfoy. The professor neglected her plush desk chair to take a seat beside the grieving woman. After watchful hesitation, Professor McGonagall spoke.

"I was very sorry to hear about Mr. Malfoy." The transfiguration professor began. Narcissa Malfoy nodded weakly in acknowledgment while trying to keep her fragile composure. "We did not always meet eye to eye, but we both shared a common goal… in supporting Hogwarts." The brown-haired witch stretched the truth a little to console the other woman. In fact, McGonagall thought to herself, there had been many times when the late Mr. Malfoy attempted to destroy the school as she knew it.

But with that aside, Minerva McGonagall continued. "If there is anything any of us can do to help you in the arrangements…" Narcissa sniffled back tears as the professor spoke. "I have already spoken with Draco and if he needs time off to be with you during this difficult…"

"No!" Narcissa suddenly yelped out of panic.

Not for the first time that night, the Griffindor Head was taken aback. The wide, frightened eyes of Mrs. Malfoy begged her understanding; her body straightened and leaned forward as to take Mrs. McGonagall into her confidence. The room was silent as Draco's mother searched to find the courage to speak again.

"My son needs to stay here, no matter what happens." The blonde's words weighed heavily in the air.

A moment later, Narcissa Malfoy was on her feet, backing towards the door.

"I shouldn't be here. Please promise me…"

"Mrs. Malfoy…" McGonagall slowly rose from her seat; jaw slightly slack, and eyebrows raised. "I don't understand!" she pleaded.

The blonde witch's face was pale as death; her whisper almost inaudible. "My son… we are all in great danger."

Narcissa dashed for the door.

"Wait! What danger?" The shrill cry of the professor tried to catch the fleeing woman as it had so many rule breaking students in the past.

Without explanation, Narcissa Malfoy was gone. Hand clenching her open door, Professor McGonagall looked futilely down the hall. Confusion and a sense of alarm filled her.

'_What should I do? Call the ministry?_' she scoffed at the thought. '_What would you do Albus?_'

There was no one left to turn to. Dumbledore, Snape, Moody, Lupin… all the people Minerva had always counted on were gone. But things had changed since then. With an inkling of a plan forming, the resourceful witch gathered her resolve.

With a '_click_', the door was shut and Professor McGonagall was hard at work at her desk.

The quill decisively scratched the parchment with every stroke.

'_**Dear Mr. Potter,**_

_**It is with great pride that I ask you, a graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to return to our halls as Professor in the subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts this Fall…**_'

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**Koiame**: That chapter took forever! But I think it is the longest one for this story. I know that all the Harry/Draco stuff hasn't gotten going quite yet, but it will. The back story/wait makes it that much better. :D Please review and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author (Koiame)**: I feel so loved with all readers reading and reviewers reviewing! Thank you thank you!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: moriah93ohio (Thank you, thank you, thank you! Your reviews are wonderful! 3)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 8: Old Magic**

Rolling thunder lightly shook the panes of glass in Harry's window. Drops of rain began to slowly tap the unseen faces of the Earth at night. Soon the airy rushing sound of the opened sky came as the torrential rains poured forth upon the waiting place. The roof of Le Chien Andalou began to leak as it always did in the tropical rain.

Not a single sound could be heard inside the young wizard's dream world. It was the first sober slumber he had in years. More a faint memory than a dream, the infant Harry James Potter looked up from his crib. On his back, he watched tiny wizards on tiny brooms circle over top his crib as they laughed inaudibly and smiled to one another. The walls around him were painted a light blue with a three inch trim of wallpaper on top.

That border paper was enchanted so that Puddlemere United's Quidditch team raced around Harry's room; practicing scoring goals, dodging or beating back Bludgers, and chasing after the tiny golden Snitch that flitted past. The room was filled with love and hope. Baby Harry smiled and made soft giggling noises as his small arms and legs flailed uncontrollably in the air. His eyes were fixed in wonder on the players above him as he imagined himself flying with them.

Voices like honey drifted through the air. Love lay thickly; warmth like sunshine at the shore filled each corner. Lilly Potter peeked at her bubbly child from the doorway with a gentle smile on her face. From the corner of his eye, baby Harry noticed his mother watching him play. By the time the raven-haired boy moved his head to look at her, all that little Harry caught sight of was the fleeing red locks of his mother's hair that trailed behind her.

Strange sounds broke the serenity of the Potter home. Crunching and popping noises reverberated in the walls. Shouting. Screaming. The air was gone. Sunlight hung frozen before Harry. Someone was coming. No, someone was there.

A monstrous roar woke the 21 year old Harry Potter. '_Was that part of the dream?_' Harry blinked as he searched the darkness. Thunder crashed against the Auror's window. Lightening bleached the night. Snapping of trees whipped the sound of the torrential rain. The young wizard could sense magic moving in the rainforest; an old magic.

The hero of the wizarding world leapt off his navy blue bedspread. The towel around his waist fell to his feet leaving only his bare skin to be illuminated blue by bolts of lightening. The musty air filled his lungs. Harry's heart was thumping in his chest; his body conditioning itself for a fight. With his green eyes piercing through the cloudy window panes, Harry watched for any abnormal movement outside. The canopy of the forest was so thick that a space where trees had fallen could not be distinguished.

There was just a feeling; like the very strings of his soul were being pulled towards it.

"_**Ornatus**_" Harry whispered; wand still clutched tightly in his hand.

A pair of black pants and black wizard's robe magically adorned him. Part of the training for becoming an Auror is to be ready at a moment's notice. The raven-haired young man rushed from his room, down the rotting stairs, and out the backdoor of the bar. The grass squished beneath his feet; the rain came down upon him like a curtain. Harry could barely see through his glasses. White haze blurred the tree line.

'_They're there. The smugglers._' The soaked Auror suspected.

"_**Impervius**_" Harry tapped his glasses to keep the water off. But that offered little help. His dark hair pressed flat against his head, getting in his eyes. Rivers poured from the tips down his cheeks before Harry hastily brushed the sections of hair aside. Minutes passed in the pouring rain until the snapping sound of another falling tree interrupted the queuing. The wizard startled as his eyes found the spot. Harry could make out the blurry image of something moving. '_What __is__ that?_' the young Mr. Potter wondered before dashing towards it.

The wind drove the rain like thrown daggers. Harry's fought the sinking mud that enveloped his feet. Thunder crashed like symbols in his ears. Mouth ajar and breathing heavily, Harry sputtered from the water hanging on his thin red lips. The tree line offered some reprieve from the torrential rain. Quietly the rain fell in the ancient rainforest. Decay covered the ground. Newly fallen leaves plastered themselves to the muck below. A fallen tree scared the earth. Bugs everywhere; but no sign of the magic Harry sensed earlier.

A frantic cooing and chirping noise alerted the young wizard to a shadow flying towards him from his front-left. Harry startled and cast, "_**Stupefy**_". Too late did Harry realize it was merely and owl. The bird dropped from the air to the muddy ground. Stunned by his mistake, the Auror rushed to attend to the surely injured creature. Harry fell to his knees and scooped up the owl in his arms.

"You gave me a fright." Said the wizard apologetically.

"_**Limpio**_" The bird was free of mud. The Potter boy examined it for injuries, but none we apparent.

'_I guess there's only one way to know for sure._' Harry concluded. "_**Rennervate**_"

The owl shrieked and scratched at the Auror as it flapped its wings feverishly.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry! It was an accident!" He put his arms up to defend himself. After a moment, the owl ceased attack and landed in front of him. The ticked-off, feathered messenger glared at Harry as if to say, '_Hurry up and take the damn package you jackass._' The raven-haired man obliged. Owl flew back into the stormy sky.

A letter held loosely in his left hand, Harry paused to check if his surroundings had changed. There was still no sign of anything unusual. The green-eyed Ministry employee cursed his luck. If there were muggle-smugglers, they had certainly apparated by now. Harry's hands turned the envelope over.

_From: Ms. Minerva McGonagall_

_To: Mr. Harry James Potter_

'_McGonagall?_' Wondered the letter's recipient. '_Why would she be writing?_' He dug his right thumb under the lip of the envelope and tore it open.

Harry froze still. Time slowed around him. The sound of the rain faded out. And the raindrops before him, like gears grinding to a stop, settled in the air. He couldn't move. The hair on the back of Harry's neck prickled with awareness. Magic blew through the surroundings like a summer breeze. It danced.

He wanted to turn, needed to turn around, but despite his will Harry could merely breathe. Something large stared at the wizard's turned back as it approached. A trickle of fear ran down to knot his stomach. How much time passed as he remained immobile there?

Paused. Sound reduced to the whispers of rocks. Hot breath, like a dragons, gusted from behind. Death waited where Harry could not see. A large, warm body knocked Potter face-first into the muck. Suffocation. Harry frightfully yelled and thrashed before realizing he could move once again. Mud blinded him from the foe circling about.

"_**Limpio**_" The Auror cast. Nothing happened. "_**Limpio**_" he shouted.

'_What the hell?_' The twenty-one year old asked as he cleaned his face with his sleeve. '_Still a mess, but…_'

Eyes stared through to his soul. Before him towered a great beast. Bestial beast. Red lines marked the bottom of his blood red eyes. Harry gaped at it. Nothing in his life ever made him feel so small and so helpless.

Slowly the beast's mouth opened. "Harry Potter", it was as if its soul spoke. Its mouth never moved; just hung open to reveal sharp, bloodstained teeth.

"Wh.. what…"

"Your life is in danger, Harry Potter."

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******Koiame**: Wow, that was an amazingly long chapter. I hope that you enjoyed it. Please review! It makes me feel appreciated. I have not started the next chapter yet, so it is going to be a while before my next upload. There are a lot of things going on in my life right now that I need to take care of before I can work more on my fanfiction. Sigh. Until then, feel free to speculate on what will happen next in reviews or the forum I set up for my stories. :) See you next time, Potter fans.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author (Koiame)**: Wow. I'm glad so many of you enjoyed Chapter 8! Thank you for reviewing, favoriting, and story alerting! It means a great deal to me that you have enjoyed my work thus far. Thank you again!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: yamimoukin, Malfoy Unforgiven, and moriah93ohio!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 9: Sanity**

'_Wh… 'appen… ning…_' Harry's mind slurred.

Words failed. Breath halted, cold. Harry's eyes jaded; the power of the Beast maddening his senses.

"You are going mad." The dark, booming voice explained. "The madness is temporary."

Thump… thump. Heart… slowing. The raven-haired wizard's insides wriggled in panic. His hands and forehead became damp, and mouth – dry. Harry was losing his grip on reality.

"You will return, Harry Potter. Take up the cursed position. At Hogwarts, you must prevent evil from taking what is most precious to you. Fail; and countless will die. This world will burn. All that is good will vanish. Yet even if you succeed…"

The Beast's mouth was moving now. What was he saying? Harry could not make out the end of his sentence. What would happen? Everything was muffled.

"What?" Harry breathed as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

Everything was blurry and starting to spin. Was the beast leaving?

'_Wait_…' The auror pleaded.

Time ground forward; slowly accelerating up to speed. Harry's limp body fell forward into the muck. He was conscious… yet mad.

Panting. Panting! '_AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh! It's burning… why is it burning?_' Harry's face contorted and teeth shown, clenched tightly.

ZAAAA… ZAAAA…

The rain poured down once more.

'_MY SKIN IS EATING ME!_' Harry cried as rocked softly in his spot on the soaked ground. '_Mom, where are you, where are you, where are you?_' He cried; hallucinating Godric's Hollow. '_Professor… Professor… Duh... Dumble… I DIDN'T KILL YOU!_'

The twenty-one year old savior began to thrash about violently, screaming. Animal calls echoed through the forest. Thunder crashed and the wind threw burdened tree limbs to the ground.

"Please…" Harry sobbed. Ants were crawling all over him in his delusion. He covered his mouth and nose to stop them. '_You can't eat my brain!_'

'_Potter. What are you doing, Potter?_' Echoed a familiar voice in Harry's delusion. '_You're really pathetic._'

'_Who's there?_' Harry asked weakly. His mind began to clear and in his mind he recognized the tall outline of the figure calling out to him.

'_You're hallucinating, Potter. Go to sleep._'

Harry's mind felt slow; and body, heavy. '_Malfoy?_' Harry puzzled before passing out into darkness.

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**Koiame**: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was particularly hard to start off. Hope it came out well though! Please review and tell me what you think so far. You can also vote for this story on the Poll I set up on my profile. Until next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Koiame:** A little fucked up at the moment. Hope this chapter comes out right. XD

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: blackcurrent, Scifinerd92, and Malfoy Unforgiven.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 10: Transfixed Memory**

Convulsing on the ground, Harry woke to damp darkness. His body seized violently as choked sounds caught in his throat. Drool viciously whipped at his chin. He was a mad dog; eyes - dim emeralds – touched by nothingness. Mud, crusting at its surface, broke like cookie crumbles around the raven-haired boy's silhouette. Insects kept their distance in fear of being crushed by the shuddering human.

'_H… he… e… e.. l.. l… p._' Struggled the auror as he muddled through madness.

Breathing heavily through his teeth, Harry's eyes were wide open. He knew not how long it had been since he passed out. The scent of blooming flowers and flutter of insect wings replaced the rain. Every day he had been in the Amazon, the weather had been hot and sticky, even through the night. But this night was cold; chilling him to the bone.

It was the early hours before the sun peaked above the horizon. Nocturnal predators were speeding home to their nests and dens. Curious younglings wriggled away from their parents, and made a racket as the world presented them with new surprises and dangers. This was a place of uncertainty; Harry often thought in the shade on each sticky, hot day in the Amazon.

Ten minutes more passed, and the young boy no longer convulsed in the mud. His mind was clearing. Tears were splattered all over his face. Cold shivers racked the young man's body and sobered him.

"I…" Wide-eyed, Harry tried to get a grasp on reality. '_I'm back._'

He rolled over and pushed himself up; the ground beneath him trying to suck his arms in. Every part of his body trembled. '_My wand?_' The wizard panicked as he searched his pockets. Barely peaking above the muck below him, Harry noticed the tip of his wooden wand. It was a simple matter to pull it out. On his feet, the world overwhelmed him; punishment for defying gravity's snare.

"_**Limpio.**_" Flashed the phoenix-cored wand as its master commanded. Face, clothes, and hands were clean; all but the parts that still touched the ground.

Harry now stood weakly still as he recounted the events in his memory. '_There was a beast._' He rubbed his face, straining to remember. '_Something about danger? And the owl… had a letter from McGonagall._' It was nowhere to be found. '_I'll just write her back later._' He stood in a daze; frail from the ordeal. The sky grew lighter each minute past.

From a distance, Le Petite Chen let off a dusty glow. Its bleached wood façade was out of place amongst the green, fertile life that surrounded it. Harry's feet shuffled towards the rickety old building. As he emerged from the tree line, the sunlight peaked over the tall sea of trees and blearily shone upon him. It was similar to a winter's morning at Hogwarts. Yet, it was unbefitting; a sad, beautiful thing among wild ambivalence. He soon breached the shadow of the edifice; the door creaking its welcome.

Harry gently shut the door and wiped his feet on the mat. '_Wonder if Becca's here._' He tucked his wand into his back pocket, conscious of the likely muggle presence. No one ever stayed at the inn except Harry, Rebecca, and her various lovers or clients, but he still had to show caution. The infrequency of guests was partly why the undercover wizard stayed there. Striking green eyes, which had regained their luster, surveyed the eerie stillness. The floorboards, bar, and chairs were all damp from the constant humidity consuming the region.

'_It'll be nice to lie down._' Harry grumbled and stretched as his muscles began to voice their grievances. The young man's head throbbed at his temples.

'_I feel like I've just played in the Quidditch World Cup._' His right palm glided over the surface of the handrail as he trudged up the stairs. '_Should I tell Bogsby about this?_' The auror dreaded the amount of paperwork his boss would surely make him fill out. '_Guess there's no helping it._' At the apex of the stairs, a familiar thumping noise shook small clouds of dust from the ceiling. Faint, rhythmic creaking noises matched the masculine drive of the dull beat.

'_Even at _this_ hour?_' Harry mused as he shook his head; unruly hair waving like sinewy tree branches in the wind. Soft light beamed through the foot-wide opening of Rebecca's room door. Too tired to gripe about his landlady's incessant, slapdash debauchery, the auror trudged forward. Century-old floor boards whined beneath his feet, socks occasionally catching on large wood splinters. Left hand idly grasping his room's door knob, Harry blankly stared at the golden, dusty light that shimmered forth. There was a familiar feeling he could not place; was it comfort or horror?

'_The sound stopped?_'

Curiosity rose as the silence dragged on. Drawn like a moth to flame, Harry let his hand slip from the cold, metal knob and walked towards the haunting light. Faint memories of lace curtains, bleached in the light of day, were roughly painted canvasses in his mind. Warmth emptied out of a vague dream, thawing his insides.

'_I'll just have a quick look_,' excused Harry as he realized himself. '_I'm sure they won't notice if I check up on them… to see if they're alright._'

The thought of what he was about to do sped up the beating of his heart. Was he compelled by innocence or perversion? Harry didn't know. But he wanted to see more – to remember more – of the lost familiarity.

Palms sweaty and cheeks blushed, an elegant dresser and set of closet doors inside Rebecca's room greeted the auror's gaze. It was an unfamiliar sight. In the many months he had resided at Le Petite Chien, Harry had always turned down her bold advances. Ginny's face would occlude all such thoughts in his mind. It only brought him despair.

When he reached the doorway, the green-eyed wizard carefully nosed around the solid door. The air in his lungs felt thin and squalid. Some part of his soul alarmed at his risky behavior.

Suddenly, the door snapped open. With no time to retreat, Harry prepared himself for the shame that would surely follow. But none came. Only blinding light and a loud crack met him at the threshold. His body went limp with a flash of red.

'_Falling?_' Before darkness took over, the young hero's mind clearly processed the afterimage of Rebecca lying on the bed and shadows emerging from the background. There were no more feelings. There was no pain. There were only dreams of a peaceful October morning twenty years ago and soft curls of red hair tickling his face. Kind green eyes met his. Smiling lips kissed away tiny tears.

'_Mum?_' The outside world had slipped away.

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**Koiame**: Hope you enjoyed it. I've been really depressed and couldn't get up the will to write. Sorry for the delay. Please review if you are so inclined. I'm seriously wondering how I'm going to write the next chapter. I feel bad thinking about it. Anyways, until next time. Thank you for reading.


	11. Chapter 11

**Koiame:** This is the most horrible thing I've ever written I think. Though sadly, my mind has thought much worse. I cannot emphasize that this is 18+ enough.

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: None, but that's okay. Review this chapter. 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, rape, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you. I'm not kidding!

Enjoy.

**

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**Chapter 11: Carnal Sin**

The clear bubble of nostalgic dreams burst; pure ecstasy filling the void. There was only pleasure and a faint awareness of motion. Like the ebb and flow of tide, Harry's body moved in pulsations. Somewhere there were laughter and words. Behind his shut eyelids, colors exploded and consumed his soul. His heart no longer ached and loneliness was never a thought. But still, he felt as if he'd forgotten something. Gradually, panic began to swell inside him, pushing back the numbness of constant pleasure. There was pain, and slivers of light that cut into the darkness.

'_No Harry. Stay asleep. Don't wake up now, darling._' An erroneous voice pleaded.

'_Who's there?_' Harry thought; the light ever expanding. '_Why shouldn't I wake up?_'

But there was no reply. Consciousness was rushing forward. Awareness gripped every nerve of his body. Facedown, propped up by his elbows, Harry felt warmth beneath him. The soft scent of perfume tickled his nose. Opening his emerald eyes, a blurry face came into focus. All was now still. Lifeless eyes stared through him. Motionless, Rebecca lied in her bed under him. The naked, warm wetness of his pelvic region brought shocking clarification.

"Está acordado." Yelled a male voice close to him.

"Bom dia. Fazem você gostam do que você vê?" Another man addressed Harry.

Mocking laughter followed, but the shaken young wizard heard none of it. Confusion and horror left Harry frozen in hell. All color had vanished from Rebecca's normally rosy cheeks. Not once did she blink or take breath. The slightest hint of dried tears glossed the sides of her face.

"Rebecca?" A child-like voice passed through Harry's lips. '_She's… dead? And I..._'

Terror was captured in the furrow of her brow and dilation of her pupils. There was screaming in his mind, in his soul, and in his lungs. Something more precious than sanity broke in that instant; innocence was dead.

"Shut up!" One of the men grabbed Harry by the back of his neck and threw him to the floor, silencing his screaming.

The raven-haired young man crashed against the wood violently. He howled as shattering pain radiated from his left knee. The sickening crunching caused the spectators to revel more. A hard kick connected with his side, collapsing him. Head swimming, Harry instinctively reached for his wand, but found only bare skin where trousers should be. He was naked from the waste down; exposed and vulnerable; violated and violator. Tears were too little. Broken bones and bleeding was too little. Nothing occluded the horror of what he had been made to do.

"Devemos nós fazê-lo dar-lheo outra vez?" The same man asked his comrades before he turned to Harry. "Don't you want finish start?"

The dreadful meaning of the man's broken English did not escape Harry. Bile was rising in his chest, burning his throat.

"**Imperio**." Spoke the man; causing the wave of pleasure to return. But it could not be allowed to stay. Harry snapped vehemently out of the spell he'd been trained to defeat. Now, of all times, he would not submit to it knowingly.

"No!" Harry shouted as reality returned abruptly. His arms flailed wildly and eyes searched to put faces to his tormentors. '_Why is this happening? Who are they?_'

"**Crucio.**" The spell hit him four times, simultaneously. Unimaginable agony engulfed Harry.

"Nós devemos ir agora. Estarão esperando-o hoje à noite." One of the men spoke, ending the assault.

'_They must be the muggle smugglers._' Harry concluded; the bitter ramifications of his failure to track them down previously rotting his soul.

"OK. Bata-o para fora primeiramente." Another captor agreed.

Even though he had trekked every inch of the Amazon, the auror had never managed to learn much Portuguese or Spanish. Instead, he would use translating spells if necessary. Rebecca had always spoken English, though she was fluent in Portuguese as well. All that Harry could understand from the smuggler's exchange was that he was to be taken away. Rebecca's body would be left there discarded.

"No!"His right hand grasped towards her. '_I can't leave her here like this!_' It was the graveyard with Cedric Diggory all over again. But this time, there was no portkey; no escape.

"**Stupefy.**" The spell hit Harry in his back. There was no fighting it. His hand dropped like lead to the floor. A marred hand of one of the men came to rest on Harry's back. In an instant, they all had apparated away. Only poor Rebecca, in her deathly pall, was left as a mark of the wickedness done.

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**Koiame**: Yeah, I know. What's wrong with me? Poor Harry! And necrophilia is freakin' disturbing. But this is an angst-ridden story. All the bad stuff makes good stuff so much better! And sorry if my Portuguese was crappy. It is a lot different than Spanish and French alone. Please tell me what you thought. I hope to offer you more soon. Thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

**Koiame:** Ah! I know last chapter was so gwah! But 'tis character building. :D Thank you for hanging in there with me.

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: moriah23ohio (x2) (This one's for you!)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, rape, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you. I'm not kidding!

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 12: Lost & Found**

Many days had passed since the letter had been sent to fetch Harry Potter. Yet Headmistress McGonagall had received no reply. The owl had returned empty-clawed and quite flustered. Believing at first that the young auror was likely too busy to reply, the Professor had waited patiently. But after a week had transpired, that patience quickly eroded by profound concern. It was unlike Potter to be so irresponsible, McGonagall thought. Many times, she had resisted the urge to go to the ministry and inquire. Each time, the graying witch reminded herself it would look bad on Harry for her to do such a thing.

Instead, she preoccupied her days managing the new hires and preparing letters to be sent to fetch new first-year students. Meetings with the Board of Governors were scheduled and meal menus planned. So much went into running Hogwarts that the students who walked its halls never thought of. There was also the matter of Draco Malfoy to attend to. A watchful eye had to be kept on him at all times. Narcissa Malfoy had disappeared the night she spoke with McGonagall. Not a soul had been seen at Malfoy manor; not even a house elf remained to tend it. Many were of the opinion that she must have gone into hiding after Lucius' death for fear of her life. That was also what the Headmistress suspected, or rather hoped. The alternative explanations were more than unpleasant to imagine. What was sure was that dark happenings were still afoot.

During the hottest part of the day, Hogwart's Headmistress was signing request forms in the comfort of her office. Outside, greened mountains and sparkling waters looked like brilliant gems in the distance. It was a picture of Hogwarts in the summer only few were privileged to see. But nothing of these wonders ever distracted the disciplined, seasoned witch.

The roar of the fireplace, spontaneously lit, interrupted Professor McGonagall's writing. Quill poised in her hand, she looked up and waited patiently for a face to appear in the greenish flame. Someone unfamiliar came to stare at her from the controlled inferno.

After clearing his throat, the gaunt head spoke. "Are you Headmistress Minerva McGonagall of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

"Yes." McGonagall sniffed, annoyed with the man's curt manner.

"Rupert Bogsby, Muggle Matters: Special Division coordinator for the Ministry." The man stiffly introduced himself. "We have urgent business to discuss."

Minerva eyed the man incredulously. "And what business would that be?"

"It concerns Harry Potter."

The staid of Mr. Bogsby's voice unnerved the Headmistress. "Potter? What's happened?" Her words were shrill and uncalculated; her worries being realized.

"There's time for that later. You're needed at St. Mungo's. Meet me there in fifteen minutes in the front lobby. Speak to no one."

Before McGonagall could give her answer, the fire had extinguished and he was gone. Without a second's thought, the quill in her hand dropped carelessly onto the parchment and she made haste through the castle. Once out the great front doors, she summoned a carriage to bear her to the gate. The brightness of day was ill-placed. It was more troubling than the night would have been, as its cheer only underscored the desperation of the moment.

'_It must be serious. Otherwise, I would not have been called._' McGonagall agonized as the carriage sped. Her wrinkled face was bleached out by the sunlight. After what seemed like forever, the thestrals came to an abrupt halt.

McGonagall dismounted the coach as swiftly as her aged form allowed, unlocked the gate with a few words, and dashed through it, robes billowing in the breeze. In a blink, she was gone - apparated to the sterile welcoming hall of St. Mungo's.

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**Koiame:** That's all for now folks. Working on the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed. If you did, please review. Thank you!


	13. Chapter 13

**Koiame:** Thank you all so much for your interest in this story! I've been enjoying writing it. There is a lot more to come. You all make me want to update this fanfic regularly. I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: mochiusagi and moriah93ohio. (Thank you guys!)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, rape, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you. I'm not kidding!

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 13: Ministry's Secret**

Once the squeezing sensation ceased, Minerva McGonagall found herself in the middle of a pristine, white room. She had been there thrice before, caring little for hospitals. Witches and wizards sped by, minding their own business. A little ways off, a directory stand stood, staffed with two young attendants in white.

"Minerva McGonagall."

The headmistress spun around. Mr. Bogsby stood in the flesh. She eyed him carefully. He was a scrawny, weathered looking man of forty with deep, recessed eyes and curly black hair. If not for his pressed, clean robes and freshly shaven face, McGonagall thought he would easily be mistaken for a bum, not Ministry official.

"Follow me." He instructed and made for a lift.

Hurrying after, she fretfully plucked him for more information regarding Potter. "What exactly has happened? Is he alright?"

"Please Headmistress, we must not speak here." Mr. Bogsby gave her a meaningful look with his dull blue eyes.

"Is he…" Her sentence trailed off, unable to speak the words.

"He's alive."

The doors opened with a 'ding' and the two shuffled inside. The dark-haired man avoided Minerva's searching gaze.

"Floor U-6, authorization MM Specials Zero." Mr. Bogsby ordered the elevator down.

'_Underground?_' McGonagall's eyes widened. Never had she heard of St. Mungo's having basement level floors. The idea of such a secret institution was horrifying.

As if sensing her thoughts, Bogsby chimed in. "There are seven underground floors that the Ministry set aside to deal with secret matters. You'll find it's all on the up and up."

The headmistress did not like the sound of that, but prudently chose to hold her tongue. In a moment, the lift came smoothly to a stop on the proper landing. A thick smell of potions and an electric feeling of magic overwhelmed McGonagall's senses when the doors parted. Black stone, much like what was used to build the Ministry of Magic's headquarters, created every foot of floor, wall, and ceiling. It was almost like entering an ornate, opalescent tomb. Solid, black metal doors dotted halls lit by torches. Healers, dressed in shades of red and black, hurried through doors and ruffled through papers.

The pair stepped out and glided forth to a long counter, behind which vials of potions were scrunched up on packed crystal shelves. A gangly young wizard with auburn hair was scrawling away in red ink on a bit of parchment. "Just a moment." The member of personnel told them, much to the chagrin of Professor McGonagall. But before she made her mind up to insist, the attendant scrolled up his document, tied it with a bit of black string, and placed it aside.

"Right. Who was here first?" He asked, looking between the pair.

"We're both here to see Mr. Potter." Mr. Bogsby stated firmly.

"Oh." The young man's eyebrows rose in a split second. "Right, sir. He's in Containment Room D. It's down to your left, can't miss it." The youthful wizard's auburn hair fell down into his left eye as he appraised the gaunt man before him. Ordinarily, Minerva would have thought the boy's reaction odd, but this was nothing of the kind.

Without a word, McGonagall hurried off to find Harry, with Mr. Bogsby in toe. '_615, 613, 611…_' The headmistress noted the descending room numbers. '_The containment rooms must be all the way at the end. But why is he being contained? He couldn't have done anything wrong?_' Speculations ran through her head. '_Whatever it is, as long as Potter's alive and breathing…_' She wanted to assure herself that things would be fine if only that were true. But what if the poor boy were mangled? What if the Harry Potter she knew no longer existed?

Containment Room D appeared before her eyes. It was different than the others. Instead of a metal door, it was the same stone that surrounded it. The only distinguishable marking was a raised stone border and room letter engraved in the center. Nervous flutters played in her chest. As she drew cautiously closer, words etched in the door like an epitaph on a gravestone became legible.

_As the ship of Theseus rebuilt,_

_E'er wave upon rocky shore be._

_For not, all die that does not change,_

_Even Eden fell to treachery._

The headmistress knew not if it was meant as warning or wisdom. Mr. Bogsby drew up to the writing and pressed his right hand square against the cold rock entrance. The solid door was only a façade masking a strong magical barrier. McGonagall watched as he walked clear through. Following after, she seemed to walk through darkness forever. Passing through the wall felt like being submerged in ice cold water. An unseasoned youngster would have wildly struggled to draw breath once on the other side, but the headmistress kept her composure. That is, until she saw Harry.

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**Koiame:** Yeah. That's all for this chapter. Sorry to keep you in suspense, but I've been updating frequently so don't fret too much, ey? By the way, I wrote that little poem thingy so don't use it please. Review if you have time. I appreciate it! Hope to see you all next chapter!


	14. Chapter 14

**Koiame:** I just introduced my boyfriend to this fanfic. He's reading this as you do. No special treatment, lol. He was like, "So Harry's into necrophilia?" And I say, "No honey, he was under the imperius curse, which, if you remember, produces a sensation of ecstasy in and of itself." So just in case some of you had the same impression, there you have it. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Sorry for the delay and all. I've been really busy with the holidays and such. Enough of my ramblings; go ahead and read.

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: bluerock 7, mochiusagi, and moriah93ohio.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, rape, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you. I'm not kidding!

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 14: Amendable State**

Bound to a flat, stone table, Harry's arms and legs were encircled by woven unicorn hair – the purest substance known to wizard-kind. Yet, even those cords could not bind him alone. Drawn in salt around the laden slab was a square locked in a circle, about which four figures stood with wands out – chanting – in a room of no extraordinary dimension. Sick heat filled the chamber and suffocated all emotion. It was as if hell were making home in the sheen of black opalescent surfaces and still of stagnating air.

Blood-tears dripped from hollow green eyes, caressing pale, wintry cheeks. Dead - but for a chilled breath whispering past Harry's purpled lips. Curses against humanity, in flesh, were etched - smoldering like the embers of countless ruined cities. Blackness that seeped from every pore engulfed the once virtuous hero's soul. Frozen in silent macabre, the young wizard's face told all. Tainted, he was. Perhaps, never to be right again…

"Dear God!" McGonagall gasped, heart stumbling in her chest. "Wh… what?" There was nothing to grasp onto as her body trembled. The headmistress struggled not to faint; blood plummeting to the soles of her feet in shock. Never in all her years had she been so disturbed by a sight.

"We retrieved him yesterday." Professional apathy guided Mr. Bogsby's review. "In a right state, too." He casually cradled his hands in his robe pockets, never once averting his gaze from Harry to consider McGonagall. The wizard may as well have been talking to himself for all his lack of manner.

Headmaster McGonagall stood motionless, her hand clasped tightly over her gaping mouth, unable to tear her eyes from the desecrated youth.

"Potter is one of mine." Bogsby continued. "I assigned him to track down muggle smugglers in the South American Amazon. It wasn't meant to be a challenging mission, yet half a year passed without results." Displeasure wrapped around his vocal chords. "And almost two weeks ago, we lost contact with him. We sent another auror to look for Potter, but all we found was a dead girl and a letter – from you, headmistress." At that, Mr. Bogsby turned to McGonagall, as if suddenly encountering her around a street corner.

It took the dear professor a few short moments to collect herself enough for reply. "A letter? Yes. Yes, I did send Potter a letter..." She remembered, a far-away look glossing across her face.

"The ministry has _also_ concluded it would be best for Harry Potter to reside at Hogwarts for the time being."

"Like this?" McGonagall yelped, brought back to attention by the absurdity. "How can you possibly mean…"

"My dear lady..." Mr. Bogsby heavy-handedly interjected, his gesticulations matching his firmness. "Potter will be in proper order when we hand him over for you to mind, I assure you."

The Headmistress could not being to fathom how one would accomplish that. She herself was uncertain if Harry would _ever_ recover, let alone take up a position in the Fall. After searching the wizard's sunken eyes, Professor McGonagall turned back to watch her former student; trapped in the suffering of his darkest days.

"Leave things to the Ministry." Mr. Bogsby took hold of the witch's arm and steered her from the unhallowed room. McGonagall was too shaken to resist his iron grasp. "Just give us a week." She heard him say. With one last image of the horror burned into her mind, the Headmistress was led back through the barrier, hurried through the halls, and swallowed up by the elevator to rejoin a world that knew not of such nightmares lurking below.

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**Koiame:** Well, that's it for now. Thank you for reading! Probably going to be a little while until I update because I've got a lot going on. Feel free to review and tell me what you think. Happy holidays everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

**Koiame:** Sorry for the delay. My flight was canceled and I was stuck somewhere without internet for two weeks. Happy Holidays and New Year! Thank you for the wait. I hope you enjoy!

**Reviewer 'Thank-You's to**: AcadianProud, mochiusagi, moriah93ohio, and Sesshomarubaby18.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the books that my fanfic is based off of or most of the characters in this story. They belong to the goddess JK Rowling.

**Content Warning**: By reading this story, you certify that you are at least 18 years old and will not hold the author or anyone else accountable if you truly are not. Contains strong language, may contain strong sexual content, may contain strong graphic violence, angst, rape, and a ton of other things that persons of weak constitutions would not find suitable… and parents would not find suitable. Please keep this in mind and stop reading if you feel like it is too much for you. I'm not kidding!

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 15: Intuitive North**

Bobbing through the air was a clear basin, filled with glistening silvery fluid, the sight of which was of ethereal presence amidst damnation. The dulcet tones of four chanting voices filled a fifth Healer's ears as she halted the floating pensive just outside the circle confining Harry Potter. Amongst the shadows of a far corner, the hardened eyes of an Unspeakable monitored the proceedings. He was Mr. Darmond, an agent of the Department of Mysteries, come to make sure things did not get out of hand.

"I will proceed with the extraction now." The fifth Healer pronounced her start. Muttering under her breath - wand guiding her way - she crossed the containment charms to stand beside Harry. Shining light surrounded the Healer, very much like the warm protection of a patronus. Her wand was ten inches long; made of birch around a Vella's hair core. The witch's hand was trained and steady in her ministrations.

With a light tap against Harry's temple, long silvery wisps were removed like thorns. Unblinking eyes, wide and glassy, seemed to whisper the pain of the process. With a gentle tap, the vapor of Harry's memory descended to the mysterious depths of the basin's fluid. The process was repeated over and over again, filling the pensive with dreadful shadows.

Beads of sweat began to form on the Healer's brow. Each wisp progressively darker; deep, murky magic bled into the pieces of Harry's memory.

"Mr. Darmond, it would be unwise to proceed further." The witch's voice shook with unease.

"You will continue." The Unspeakable instructed.

She pressed her lips and took a deep, trembling breath through her nose. Goosebumps rippled the skin of her arms and neck. With a simple nod, the Healer pressed on in her duty. Like the walls, and the table Harry lay upon, the strands allowed no light to escape. The pensive's enchanted virtue no longer shone. Each memory was thicker, more tar-like than the last.

"I've never seen this before." The healer examined a thread before her grey-blue eyes. Sickening heat emanated from it. The memory itself began to bubble and pop. Spindles began to shoot out and latch on like spider webs. "What?" She exclaimed and shook her wand like a thermometer to detach it, but to no avail. Before instinct could command her 'drop it', the sticky silk spread to her hand.

"NOOO!" The witch shrieked; falling backwards as the dark magic blistered and seeped through her skin. The light, that had engulfed her, extinguished. Shadows filled her mind. "_Don't touch me!_" She was possessed by the memory. Her words and experiences became one with a part of the missing past.

Pensive wobbled as it made a sick cracking noise beside her. Mr. Darmond, who until this point remained a stoic spectator, whipped out his wand. Without uttering a single word, a flash of gold light sparked from the tip. The basin steadied; underneath it coiled a stand to hold it. The Unspeakable relaxed while the Healer fell to the floor, screeching as the darkness rushed up her arm and filled her eyes. Pupils dilated; she lay there catatonic. All sound abated. It was as if she had been petrified. But beneath the placid surface, a nightmare unfolded.

Sinister vapors avulsed from the contaminated healer's pores. The four other healers' chanting faltered. The magic within the circle was spreading beyond their control.

Crimson light bathed the room, signaling contamination. In an instant, more healers, in their black and red robes, emerged from the walls and threw spells wildly at the barrier to strengthen it. With a swift motion, an ethereal pale white shroud was draped over the corrupted healer. Amidst the chaos, Unspeakable Darmond straightened and outstretched his hand. The gold stand that cradled the pensive coiled and compressed to a flawless tray. With his thick fingers, the wizard drew the floating platform near.

Containment Room D was brought to order; the four healers that had held the barrier relieved by fresh wizards. A young wizard knelt beside his shrouded coworker and muttered a spell. Darmond watched as the pair literally melted through the floor. The mess was cleaned up and situation contained.

"Mr. Darmond." The Charge Healer for level six reported to his superior.

"I expect the extraction to resume within the hour. This pensive will go to the Ministry for review. You know where to reach me." The Unspeakable did not take his eyes off the swirling darkness of the pensive's water the entire time he spoke.

"Sir." The Healer nodded and disappeared through the wall behind him.

From his cloak, Mr. Darmond retrieved a small red powder cube that he crushed in his hand and let sift from his palm. "Department of Mysteries." The Unspeakable commanded. Black flame engulfed him. With a flash, he and the pensive were gone.

The soft chanting once again became an uninterrupted hum as all extra personnel cleared out. A most subtle hint of relief descended upon Harry. If one were close enough, they could almost swear they heard him sigh.

In Hogwarts' stables, Headmistress McGonagall absentmindedly stroked her hand through the mane of a thestral. Darkness long had fallen, yet she lingered like a ghost, deep in thought. On her face, distress was clearly written. A headmistress could hardly let the staff see her in such a state, so the animals would have to be her companions instead. As a cat, how many times had she snuck out of the castle to come to such quiet places? But those were the days of Albus Dumbledore and a world much less complicated.

Twenty years ago was surely a horrific time. But Albus was there as a shield for her and many others. Now the weight of such responsibility lay squarely on her shoulders. The winds of misfortune were coming, just like each time before and McGonagall sensed it. Dark forces gathered to fill the void left by Voldemort.

"Albus." The professor whispered as she brushed the back of the mare. '_Who would you see me turn to now?_'

Warm, sticky breezes blew through the open stables. In the darkness, one could almost make out a hint of plaid drawn up to McGonagall's nose as she sniffed back tears. With a final deep breath of forced collect, the Headmistress glided from her sanctuary and towards her place of duty. Hogwarts castle was alight with gleaming candles and tempered fireplaces.

As she disappeared into the night's envelope, a silent figure rose from the dark disguise of a stable corner. He had borne witness to the scene, yet was unaffected by it. The fires of determination and hatred filled his belly. Silver hair gleaming like wisps of moonlight, Draco Malfoy grabbed the reigns and saddle sitting idly on a stack of hay and dressed the sturdiest thestral he could find with them. The beast shook its head as Draco mounted. With a decisive whip of the reigns, the pair made their ascent into the empty sky.

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**Koiame**: Wow, that was a long chapter for me! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought. I'm really excited about this fanfic because I know where it's going and I can't wait to get there! Anyways, until next time. Make sure to check my profile for updates on story progress and vote in the poll for your favorite fic of mine. Happy New Year!


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